Keep Your Ticket Stub: A new Kings of Kauffman series

As the new guy at Kings of Kauffman, I want to introduce myself with a story giving you an idea of what you can expect from me moving forward. With a degree in history and a minor in baseball (not formally recognized by any accredited university), I enjoy writing about baseball's storied past. But as much as we all enjoy reliving Salvador Perez walking Oakland off in the 2014 Wild Card Game or George Brett's dominant performance in Game Three of the 1985 ALCS, those kinds of moments are few and far between for even the most spoiled franchises, and I think we can all agree that KC Royals fans are far from spoiled.

The best KC Royals game I've ever seen

So, what I want do with this series is highlight the regular season games and accomplishments that make up the backbone of every KC Royals fan's experience. Some of these games will be more recognizable than others; none are likely to be the subjects of books or commemorative videos, with the possible exception of the Pine Tar Game, a baseball moment that has achieved the legendary status of an epic playoff game. But that's exactly the sort of thing we're going for here.

These are the kind of games that you bring up over and over when reminiscing about old glory days. They might seem meaningless in the big picture, but they're the triumphs that keep us engaged in between trophy presentations, which might take decades, as Royals fans can attest. And they're even more meaningful to us if we just happen to be in the stands. That's why I'm going to start us off by telling you about the greatest game I ever watched in person.

The game had a little bit of everything: an upset of a juggernaut team (or soon-to-be juggernaut, at least), superstars aplenty, positive and negative fan interactions, timely pitching, big knocks, an epic comeback, and of course, a walk-off dinger. So pull up a seat and I'll tell you a tale, and maybe you can tell me about the best game you ever saw when I'm done.

The game begins

The pitching matchup was David Paulino for Houston vs. Jakob Junis for the Royals. Junis came into 2017 as a rookie with little fanfare, but after finishing the season with a 9-3 record, 4.30 ERA, and 1.281 WHIP, and combined with the tragic death of Yordano Ventura and Danny Duffy's inconsistency, was arguably the team's second best pitcher after Jason Vargas. Unfortunately, much like Brad Keller after him, his career took a downward turn after a promising start and he never quite recaptured that early promise.

This was only Junis' second career start, and I was excited to see what the young prospect had against one of the most potent lineups in the majors. Our seats were in left field, right in the heart of what was then known as "Gordo Nation". We were in prime home run territory, hoping that none would come at Junis' expense, and in high spirits. Only one thing could ruin that.

In my experience, games at great ballparks involve at least one subplot about the fans around you. I remember a 2015 game against the Orioles that was amazing — the Royals were at the height of their power, beating up a good Baltimore team, and the section we were in was unlike anything I'd ever seen. We were all strangers high-fiving and hugging each other, dancing and excitedly talking for all nine innings.

June 6 was not that. Two couples were seated in front of us. The guys were arrogant and didn't know much about baseball. They heckled Alex Gordon, and reliever Peter Moylan in the bullpen, and they thought they were hysterical, even if everyone around them didn't. I still don't understand what they had against Moylan; by all accounts a likeable guy, he was probably KC's most reliable reliever that season.

But the Astros jumped on Junis early and led 7-1 in the fourth. Apparently sensing a blowout, the guys fortunately left to salvage their dates, which let us refocus on the game.

On the flip side, my eight-year-old son was horrified to hear some Astros fans cheering a few rows behind us. He turned to them in disbelief and asked (loud enough that the whole section could hear), "Wait a minute. Are you actually rooting for the Astros?" They were, and they turned out to be very nice people. We exchanged compliments about each other's teams, and spent the rest of the game conversing and indulging in friendly trash talk.

And isn't that why we pay good money to go to these games? To have a good time? Of course, it never hurts when your team wins. And when they win in dramatic fashion, well, that's as good as it gets. So let's get to the good stuff.

The Royals mount a comeback

For the first seven-and-a-half innings, the game was hardly memorable. I've watched the Royals lose plenty of times, and while it was cool to see former Royal Carlos Beltrán homer for Houston in the fourth, nothing to that point stood out as exceptional. It looked like the Dippin' Dots and souvenir mini-helmet I bought for the kids would be the highlights of the night.

But that changed in the bottom of the eighth.

The Royals had gradually chipped away at Houston's lead. Hosmer scored in the bottom of the fourth when he and Perez hit back-to-back doubles. In the sixth, Hosmer doubled again and, after Perez singled, Moustakas knocked Hosmer in. But he and Salvy were stranded on first and third, and Royals fans could be forgiven for believing that this night's mountain was just a bit too high to climb.

With KC trailing 7-3, Hosmer struck out to begin the eighth. But Perez and Moustakas followed with back-to-back singles to put runners at the corners. After a pitching change, Cheslor Cuthbert singled to score Perez and move Moustakas to second.

Alcides Escobar then struck out, making the odds of a rally look slim. But unlike more recent editions of the club, the Royals of that era possessed more than a little magic. It's difficult to explain to someone who wasn't around to see it, but rarely did it feel like those teams were out of a game.

Gordon walked to load the bases and set the stage for Whit Merrifield. Down 1-2 in the count, he roped a line drive down the left field line. The ball was right in front of us until it disappeared into the corner, and when Merrifield hit it, I thought he had a chance for an inside-the-park home run. That turned out to be overly optimistic, but it was a bases-clearing double and the game was tied 7-7.

Jorge Bonifacio struck out to end the inning and reliever Mike Minor didn't allow the Orioles a run in their half of the ninth.

Now, Kauffman Stadium felt ready to explode. The crowd, far from a sellout but sounding much, much bigger, could sense something big was at hand.

Cain led off with a groundout to third. Hosmer grounded out to second. I was sure Perez was going to be the hero with a walk-off homer, but he kept the Royals alive for Moustakas with a single.

Moose stepped in, took a strike, then launched a moonshot into the right field stands to send everyone home happy with a 9-7 Royal win. Against the backdrop of an actual full moon, no less.

Who says baseball isn't poetic?